Lost Beyond Croggon
by Pernicia
Summary: A companion to "Lost in Croggon," where Maerad find herself lost in our world while trying to solve the mystery of a girl who has replaced her and the mystery of herself.
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: **All characters, etc. belong to Alison Croggon.

**Notes: **This story is a companion to xLaramiex's "Lost in Croggon," so if you haven't read that, I suggest you do so, and all will be explained. This story starts at the same time but is behind "Lost in Croggon until I catch up.

For those of you who do not want to read LIC, which I cannot imagine why because it is wonderful, I'll summerize: Kayla, an ordinary young woman and Pellinor fanatic, is accidentally transported to Annar when Maerad literally drops in her bathroom. While this tale follows Maerad in our world, LIC covers Kayla's journey with Cadvan through Annar. CHAPTER TEN NOW UP!

Anyway, enjoy!

For almost as long as I could remember, I had been imprisoned behind walls. I was slave in Gilman's Cot, and mine was the barest of all existences: an endless cycle of drudgery and exhaustion and dull fear.

It was a small hamlet in the mountains, beyond the vast lands of Inner Annar, lands of which I could only dream of. Everyday was another war, another struggle overcome. When life becomes but a battleground, when everywhere in existence is but a compact settlement of barren fields forced to thrive and dreary tenements packed with hopeless and wearied slaves, there is not much to live for.

One, and only one single hope kept me alive, and that was my music. When I played, I could pour my soul into the music, ignoring the emptiness inside. Even when it was only the commonplace drinking ballads, it was more than the nothingness that had devoured all else from my life.

Sometimes, I would see brief flashes in my mind, flashes of another life hidden to me. If so, it was but a dream now; I was a slave, and no slave could ever know of such finery. It was my imagination, I was convinced, that and nothing else. Perhaps that kept me alive as well.

As I grew older, any hope of escape burned dimmer and dimmer, until all that remained was the dying embers of a past hope, faint, but not yet extinguished. Any longer, and they would turn to grey ashes, like everyone else in the Cot, existing in body, but never in spirit. Like withered leaves, they waited for winter to fall and bury them, removing them from all memory. I too waited for the storm, the final blizzard. With each day, the despair increased, blossoming in my chest like a plant that fed on fear.

When I awoke that day, I was certain that nothing good would come of it. As I bent down to splash some icy water on my face, I noted the change in the breeze. Looking up, I remembered that it was Springturn, the day where winter was chased away by the coming of spring, where everything would flourish and blossom. Maybe it was spring somewhere, but not for me. Never for me. I was alive and young, but my soul was withering inside.

The night before, the Thane had held one of his lively festivals, with plenty of chaos and drunken men. Although the Thane and his thugs celebrated it eagerly, it simply meant more work for all of the slaves. As I was the only musician, I had been forced to play for the men as they grew progressively less sober, until the last of them had finally passed out, allowing me a bare hour of sleep.

I hadn't always been alone. I had had a mother once, a mother named Milana, though I could scarcely remember her. She looked a bit like me, I thought, with her pale skin and sapphire eyes, and her tangled black hair. Oddly enough, those traits, thought to belong to witches, had saved me from being raped or killed or otherwise damaged. Or at least, they had protected me more than the others, who despised me for it. Just a year ere, some women had banded together to drown me. Being superstitious and believing my ghost would return to haunt him, Gilman himself saved me, and although I was beaten for my trouble later, my fate fared far better than the women.

I could curse people with my evil eye, as I had threatened to one particularly annoying thug, Lothar, this morning. Sometimes, they would simply trip. In worse cases, there would be some other misfortune, such as the man who had attempted to rape me, who went blind for three days.

Sighing, I made my way to the cowbyre, cursing that I had been stationed under Lothar, who would undoubtedly be irritated at me for the near encounter this morning. As I swung open the door, I glanced around, noticing the padlocked door to my right. I wasn't exactly sure where this went. Probably to some abandoned supply room or something ordinary like that. All I knew was that it was always locked tight. Except for today.

Thoughts swirled around in my head as I stared at the door, slightly ajar. Light was pouring through, like sunlight. It seemed a good omen, beaconing me forward. I dropped my milk pail and went forth to investigate. Perhaps this was a secret passage out of this place, the escape I had always dreamed of.

But no. I could not let myselfget caught up in fantasies, else I would only suffer disappointment when I realized it was simply a supply closet.

As I pushed open the door, a whole new world erupted in front of me. Startled, I let out a cry, raising my hands to my cheeks, and I stumbled on the strange tiled floor. This was no longer the cowbyre, nor some supply closet or a dark tunnel; not even close, it was a strange white room, filled with potions in bottles and unknown devices, all decorated in bright colors and made of shiny yet transparent materials.

Frantic, I rushed to the door, about to fling it open, when it opened automatically. I jumped back as I saw the blonde girl staring at me in equal shock. She was dressed in odd, masculine styled clothes and was clearly of some status to be so clean.

"What is this place?" I murmured, trembling. I knew I had to be brave, for who knew what she could do to me? Had she summoned me here with some magic?

"Who are you?" the girl asked, seemingly thoroughly shocked.

"Maerad," I answered slowly. "My name is Maerad." With a sudden burst of courage, I stood taller, and in a demanding tone continued, "And who are you? Have you spelled me?"

"Maerad?" she questioned, surprised. "You're Maerad?" She studied me as I shifted uncomfortably.

"What does my name mean to you?" I asked, faking authority. She knew my name. She had to be some enchantress. My voice trembled as I whispered, "I don't know you."

"I…er…never mind. Where did you come from?"

Shaking, I pointed to the strange cubical with a window of some sort that was lined with metal, like in Gilman's men's weapons. "I think I came through there."

The girl looked skeptical. "Through here?" Walking over to it, she opened the door, her mouth widening at what she saw. I tried to peek over her shoulder, but I only caught a brief glimse of the same old cowbyre. Curious, the girl stepped into the device. There was a jolt, and the door slammed shut as a bright light lit up the air, making me shield my eyes. When I dared to look back, the enchantress was gone. Crying out, I leapt at the door, opening it frantically, but inside, it was simply a plain, white stall. No cowbyre. No padlock. No nothing. Jumping in, I pounded on the walls, begging it to return me. When it became apparent that the device wouldn't work without the enchantress, I closed my eyes.

Suddenly, a thought floated to my mind. If the cowbyre was gone, if everything had vanished, did that mean I was… free?

Startled at my discovery, I turned my head slowly, facing the room with new interest. Rather than cursing me, had the enchantress given my greatest, if buried, wish? She had seemed benign, if strange. And now, in all likelihood, she was where I had been, a helpless slave.

As I gazed at the room, questions forming in my mind, another thought formed in my head. So much was strange here, so much was different… was this really all a dream? Or was it a nightmare?

* * *

**Will this story linger in your dreams? Or was it a nightmare? In other words, review please!**


	2. Bewitched, Bewildered, and Bothered

**Disclaimer: **I would love to own Pellinor. Sadly, however, I do not, nor do I own _Angel _by Sarah McLachlan.

**Notes: **As you may have noticed, this is coming out very infrequently due to other fan fics, planning, and school. It is not, however, abandoned in any way shape or form, nor in hiatus. Reviews are appreciated :D. Now, onto the story:

Cautiously, I thrust myself up, forcing myself out of the small stall. This had to be some dream, some fantasy. I was a slave; I always would be. That was what had been drilled in our heads everyday since the beginning of our existences. And slaves did not feel pleasure, only pain and a dull sense of despair.

And I despaired now, though for what I was unsure. If this was a dream, shouldn't I savor it while it lasted, before the wakening bell tolled once more? And, if it wasn't…

I trailed off, not daring to let myself think the impossible. For the first time, I was curious: what kind of world had I created in my mind? Feeling an unprecedented leap of confidence, I started forward, glancing everywhere.

I jumped as a girl's face appeared on the wall. She had long tangles of raven hair and the widest blue eyes, looking like a frightened, out-of-place child. She was eerily thin, all bones. Her cheekbones protruded from her skull slightly, giving her a subtle elegance despite her dirty attire. I belatedly and shockingly realized that this girl was me.

With careful steps, I walked beyond the door, into the enchantress's room.

I should have expected awe; she was, after all, an enchantress. Of course she would possess magic beyond my imaginings. Even so, I had expected to see a dark room, perhaps with some magic orb in the center, or some herbs or potions. I hadn't expected this intake of colors.

The room was big. Not big compared to the barracks, but incomparably big for one person, at least to me. I doubted even Gilman had a chamber this large. On the far wall was a whole shelf of various bindings of papers. Curious, I strode over and opened one. It contained the same scribbles that a few of the guards knew. Mainly, they used lines and symbols, but I had heard a mention of a real system, a real language of plain squiggles. They seemed incomprehensible to me. Gazing at it closer, I noticed that several of the symbols repeated itself. I traced a random word with my finger. M-A-E-R-A-D. I wondered what it spelled.

Closing the book, I examined the cover. Seeing the lady, I almost dropped it. She was identical to the one in the other room- me. Only, in this picture, her hair blew in the wind, and she wore a fine green dress with meticulous embroidery at the belt. She carried a peasant's harp, like my own. Not like my own, it was my own. The girl was me.

Beyond the girl, the sky split in two. On one side, it was stormy and grey above a ruined land. On a scorched tree sat a deformed winged creature that glared back at me with cruel eyes. I shifted my eyes to the other side, much more pleasant to look at. The sky was a pure blue, lighting up a bright meadow. A man stood in the background, looking back at me with stern, yet not unkind eyes. He was handsome, which meant nothing to me. Men often hid behind the masks of handsomeness to disguise their cold hearts. Still, I couldn't help but think this man had some connection to me.

What was I doing on a book? I wondered if maybe the enchantress had made it. Maybe she had foreseen my coming. Except, she had seemed surprised when I arrive. She did seem to know me. I didn't dare think what that could mean.

I didn't let go of the book. I knew I shouldn't be rooting through the enchantress's belongings- doing so was probably a sure way to earn her wrath. But, if this was a dream, it was my dream. Besides, the woman had seemed benign enough.

Clutching the book, I studied the rest of the room. The enchantress seemed to own everything. She had a desk full of papers which in turn were full of elegant looking squiggles. And most impressive was the luxurious bed extruding from the wall opposite the room with the magical compartment. Thick, colored covers were sprawled carelessly across the thick mattress, wide and long enough to fit three of my cots. I could only imagine sleeping on such a cushioned surface; it was fine enough for a king. Finer, I thought. There were two- no, three- pillows at the head of the bed. The baseboard was made of some sort of elegant wood, and when I examined it further, I saw that there were etchings on each of the pillars, much different. For one, they were less even, as if they had been hand-etched on by an amateur. I couldn't imagine that the enchantress would be so careless. Then again, these were her chambers, generally a private place. Of course, she was of marrying age. I wondered if she had a husband. I wondered if he would return and find her mysteriously gone.

The thought frightened me. I tried brushing it away, but I couldn't simply ignore the thought of an enraged sorcerer of some sort bursting in the see me rooting through the belonging of his wife, who was mysteriously missing. I could picture his fiery eyes and furious powers all too well. All simulations resulted in my death, sometimes drowning in fire, sometimes skewered with some sort of staff, all because I couldn't tell him what I had done to his wife. The words could never leave my throat.

Shivering, I hastened my pace towards a radiant hole in the wall. I despised all men, especially those who wished harm on me. That was generally all of them, excepting Mirlad and the father I could never remember. Maybe not even him.

Pulling back a thin curtain, I gasped as I peered out of the hole- but, was it a hole at all? There was a strange reflectiveness to it; when I pressed my hand to it, I was startled to fine it was not a hole but a smooth, transparent surface. Even more surprising was the outside. Her world.

It looked out onto a sort of alleyway, filled with metallic cylindrical containers overflowing with litter. Papers fluttered in the breeze I could only assume was there. And beyond, there was a grey sky filling the gaps between towering buildings. Even the smaller ones were staggering to me, as the only settlement I had seen was Gilman's, and I had thought that large. The closer ones seemed colored soothing yellows, off-whites, and dull blues. They all had the same strange windows with shutters of varying colors: rose and black, brown and grey. Some had trays of flowers, barely budding in the mild spring weather. Others were undecorated other than small signs displaying more of those small scribbles and strange boxes fastened to poles. There weren't many trees, but I spotted a few lone birds drifting by.

In the distance, the buildings- no, towers- were staggering. To me, they seemed like mountains, only not so wide as tall and thin. I wondered how such a structure could stand without toppling haphazardly to the ground. Further on, I could hear the faint tolling of a deep sounding clock.

Slowly, I turned away, feeling insignificant and isolated in a world beyond my imagination. Far beyond my imagination, and yet, somehow, I was living in it this very minute. Now, I wasn't so certain this would be any better than life at Gilman's settlement.

This was no dream. Somehow, I had known all along that I would never wake up, wistfully wishing the fantasy had lasted. I was living in the fantasy. And I couldn't escape.

A feeling of uncertainty curled like a snake inside my stomach, followed by the feeling of anxiety which morphed into a feeling of utter terror at this giant world. Thrashing the curtains shut, I turned back to the bed, noticing the strange instrument that lay on top of the covers for the first time. It was metallic, like most of the strange items here, only it was a spring green color. When I approached it, music began emanating out of it, a rich and beautiful toned voice.

_In the arms of an angel  
Fly away from here  
From this dark cold hotel room  
And the endlessness that you fear  
_

I stared at it, bewildered, uncertain whether to be amazed or terrified. It was like there was a singer with a whole ensemble playing, an invisible one. Perhaps this was some form of communication.

_You are pulled from the wreckage  
Of your silent reverie  
You__'re in the arms of the angel  
May you find some comfort there._

As abruptly as it had started, it stopped, the music gone. I was half disappointed, half relieved. Disappointed because it had been so beautiful, the lyrics true, the voice soft. Relieved because nothing drastic was happening. Yet.

Someone was coming. I didn't hear them, but the music seemed to be some sort of summoning. Besides, an inner sense that told me someone was on there way to see the enchantress. What would they do when they found me?

Unless they didn't find me. Unless I was gone.

I did not want to leave the enchantress's haven. Surely it was safe, if nothing else in this world. But if I stayed here, I knew I would be discovered and probably accused of kidnapping and theft. I wondered what the penalty would be. For someone so important, surely it was high. Sold into slavery again, perhaps, or execution. Maybe they would torture me for information first. And it was these gruesome thoughts that prompted me forward.

I grabbed the device, a rather rash movement. Once it was in my hand, I hesitated, as if waiting for something terrible to happen. When nothing did, I decided it was safe; perhaps I could get word to the enchantress this way. If not, at least it was something. Maybe I could sell it for whatever sort of currency they used here. Either way, I felt safer with it, as if the enchantress could simply jump out of it at any moment to rescue me from any danger. Unlikely, but possible.

Glancing around the room, I spotted a strange sort of sack. It was black with strange straps on the back. Picking it up, I saw that it was made out of some sort of smooth fabric, with pockets shut by metallic locks that seemed to have no keyhole. After pulling at them for a while, one slipped sideways and opened, revealing a large pocket. Inside, there was a notebook, some utensils, and a thick looking manuscript. Gently, I placed the book and music device inside the pocket, hoping that neither would be jostled too much.

Studying the room, I picked up a few other items, ordinary ones like a small blanket and magical ones like a small green square with a circle in the center and a device that lit up when a button was pressed. I went as quickly as I could.

I was afraid. Terrified. Of being discovered, and of the endless world outside this room. I simply had to decide which terrified me less.

The rational decision would be to wait for the enchantress to return. Except, if I had gotten her trapped in my own dimension of drudgery, she might not be able to return, and when she did, doubtless she would be angry with me. I did not want to face her wrath.

I locked the sack up, if that was the right word. Experimenting, I decided that the two straps were for my two arms and that it was meant to be carried on my back.

Without a further glance, I stumbled out of the room and down the stairwell at the end of the hall. I desperately hoped I would not be seen; being an enchantress clearly of some status, she was likely to have servants or, worse, slaves. Then again, perhaps she lived in isolation. It was a huge establishment for only one person, and I noticed other chambers, so I guessed that was not the case.

The stairwell led into another short hallway, which in turn led me to an open room with a wooden table and cabinets lining the walls. Like in the enchantress's room, there were metallic devices everywhere, but there were also simple ones that I recognized, like spoons and a rolling pin. I deduced that this was the kitchen.

I did not want to steal from the enchantress. I did not want to anger her. Yet, I had done both already. Why would a little bit more matter?

I weighed the outcomes and decided it would best to steal if for survival. I could repay her later. I hoped.

For once, I stepped without fear. Perhaps it was the semi-familiar environment, or maybe I had simply given up being afraid of stealing. The enchantress had seemed kind to me. It was like to be a trick, but I didn't care.

As I suspected, the cabinets contained food, in bags and jars. There were utensils and bowls as well, but I ignored those. They would only take up room, and they would be heavy, so there would be no use in taking them.

After I had gathered all of the food I could- nuts, fruits, bread, and crackers mainly- I wandered into the next room, I saw that I was at the end of my journey at last. There was a door, a fair-sized wooden one. My thoughts were still on my thefts. I hoped the food would last. If I rationed it, it might be enough for a week or more. Who knew when I would find more? Or how I would get more?

There was so much about this world I didn't know. I'd say I was afraid, but I was tired of fear. Throwing the door open, I gazed outside for the first time, the breeze rustling my hair. I tried to take everything in, but there was too much. It was much like the alley, only bigger and more real. A long road wound out, settlements on either side of it. At the sides, there were giant monstrosities, metallic and angry looking. As I watched, one of them raced down the road, leaving me breathing in its exhaust, a thick, disgusting smoke. I guessed these were some sort of transports.

Anxiety rose up from within me, but I forced it away. This was my world now. My world.

Feigning confidence I wasn't sure I could ever find, I took my first step outdoors. I had expected some dramatic change. But there was nothing but the same breeze.

I was alone. But I was free.

I used that the urge me onward, down the road and into the city, as I was sure that was where people would be. I was terrified beyond imagination, especially of meeting any people, but I knew that I needed help understanding this world, even if I only observed what people were doing.

I don't know how long I walked. The city had seemed close, with its towering buildings and all. It probably was close, for those people in the transports at least. They had startled me the first few times I had seen them, but I was getting used to them.

The buildings just seemed to get bigger and bigger. Already night was falling, and I was just entering the cote of the city, where many other pedestrians were hurrying along the paths along the sides of the streets. The street congestion was brutal, like everyone was trying to get somewhere at the same time.

Sighing, I began crossing the street. I had no idea where I was going. Somewhere to sleep, I supposed. That would probably end up being outside. At least it was spring.

A loud horn honked right next to my ears, and I turned, face to face with a transport reeling towards me at a high speed. I stayed, frozen to the spot. I had thought the humans had control over the vehicles. Perhaps this one was broken…

I hardly had time to process the bright headlights drawing hastily closer. Yet again, fear coursed through my body, this time of another sort. It couldn't hit me, this strange transport could not hurt me. It was magic, and magic was good, right? For some reason, that didn't comfort me.

Time seemed to pass at an abnormal rate, as if giving me time to take everything in. The blinding orbs, the growing shouts, the blaring horns. Yet I could not move.

It happened too fast, I wasn't quite sure how I was saved. Somehow, I found myself on the opposite side of the street, shaken, yet unharmed. My hands were trembling- no, my whole body was trembling, and not from the cold. When I looked up, I gave a start: there was a man with his arms on me.

"Are you crazy?" he shouted. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"No, I… killing myself would not be good," I stammered, hoping I didn't sound too dumb. My voice was strange, hoarse for some reason.

"Yeah, well what else could you be getting at? Running out into the street like that? At rush hour? You should have been killed."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, not sure how to handle this. His hand felt uncomfortable around my arm, squeezed tight, as if he was afraid I'd dash off again.

"Don't be sorry to me, be sorry to yourself," he grumbled, releasing my arm. In turn, I snatched my arm back, holding it close to my chest. He had saved my life from what I gathered, and men who did deeds like that usually wanted rewards. Awful rewards.

As realization struck me, I looked up at him in pure terror. Of all the things in this world, he terrified me the most. He didn't look evil; most men didn't. This one had blonde hair, grown out slightly. He had green eyes, and he was tall, as if he was important. He wore a black coat and the blue pants in the style of the enchantress. At first, his expression was angry, then startled, then confused.

"I won't let you," I said, trying to sound confident, though my skin was ice, and my heart was pounding. I got ready to run if he approached. Doubtless he could outrun me, but maybe if there were enough people, I could lose him in the crowd.

"You won't let yourself be sorry?" He glanced around, as if trying to find a plausible reason for my terror. "Look, I'm sorry if you wanted to be hit by a car…"

"Rape me."

"What?" he seemed taken aback.

"Rape me. I won't let you." My hands were trembling uncontrollably now, and my voice quavered.

"Who do you think I am?" the man demanded.

I stared back at him.

"Honestly, people these days," he mumbled. "I save you from a car, and you think I'm going to rape you?"

"I caused trouble," I said softly. "I am not supposed to be trouble."

"Most things aren't. The government, for example, but does that stop them?"

I didn't exactly understand the last statement, and I didn't try to. All that mattered was that he wasn't making any move towards me.

"You're not going to rape me?" I asked.

"I am still not going to rape you," he confirmed. "Even if you want me to."

"But, why?"

"Um, because that's what civilized people do. Or, don't do."

"Why did you save me, if not to rape me?" I questioned. He looked at me as if the answer was obvious. Taking another step back, I cried, "What is it you want? I have nothing, nothing!"

With that, I bolted, not looking back. When I finally dared to, he was not following me. Belatedly, I wondered if he could have given me any help. But, no. Men were ambitious creatures. He had probably been trying to lure me to him by comforting me.

I continued my journey, but I quickly discovered that there was nowhere for me to go. I was tired- my breaks were frequent now- and besides that, the pedestrians were rapidly vanishing, replaced by dark looking men, the kind who might actually be the ones to rape a helpless woman.

Finally, when I decided I could go no further, I slumped into a backwater alley. There were trash heaps and papers everywhere, but at least it was deserted.

I rationed my food out and ate my allotted supper, but it left me with an emptier feeling that I had started with. Sooner or later, I would need to get more food. Sooner or later, they would find out what I had done to the enchantress and come after me, even when I was not certain what I had done myself. Sooner or later, I would be doomed. Perhaps this place was a prison of another sort. I almost found myself wishing that when I drifted off to sleep, I would wake up again in Gilman's cot. I never thought I would wish that.

As I lay down to sleep, I glanced at the stars, looking for Ilion, my star, but it was nowhere in sight. I could hardly see the stars with all the grey fog clouding the city, but the moon was full, lighting up the alley so I could see the filth and vermin I was making my temporary home.

I needed to get out of here. But there was nowhere to go.

I was free now. But free of what?

* * *

**If you have a free moment, please, R&R.**


	3. Lost Between Croggon

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Pellinor… that'd be the day, wouldn't it?

**Notes: **As you can see, this is coming out very (very, very, very) infrequently, probably because I need more motivation to write. And what gets me motivated? (Aside from Laramie's monthly reminders- see, I edited it eventually, after six months, but still!) Reviews! That way I know that someone is actually reading this, and I'm not just writing to myself, which by now, I probably am. So, please! Review!

_The stars were wrong. I didn't know how I knew that, only that I did. But, that was what dreams were for, rationalizing the irrational without a second thought._

_Lying on my cot, I really couldn't tell how far away they were or how many there really were, only that they were beyond my reach. I also knew that, rationally, I wouldn't be able to see the stars from my cot and that my cot was safely back in the slave barracks- safely and slave, two words I never thought I'd see together- and not in the vast wilderness. A part of me knew this was a dream, and I wasn't anywhere close to the barracks. Yet, as always, the dream was real while it lasted._

_I tried to remember, though what I didn't know. I knew there was something- it seemed that I knew so much, and yet so little at the same time. Although I was in no danger, despair flowed through my body, weighing it down. For some reason, I felt numb. And afraid. I was alone… but didn't I usually treasure the scarce moments I grabbed for myself? And yet, I felt… nothingness. I was insignificant, and the stars were telling me._

_It was almost amusing how much nothing could weigh on me. Nothing could wound more than nothing wounded, even physical pain._

_The stars were wrong. Or was it me?_

"_Hey, can I sit with you?" a voice asked. The question was posed casually, but still, I jumped at the suddenness. The soft voice echoed in a whispery tone. Turning, I spotted a girl silhouetted in the moonlight, her short dark hair loose in the wind. Her figure was much like mine, thin, though not so painfully so. In the distance, a wolf howled, but its cry wasn't an aggressive one; somehow, both of us understood its harmless nature._

"_Of course," I answered, moving aside to leave space for the girl. She didn't smile, but she came forth. It wasn't until she was right next to me that I could discern her features clearly. Her hair was clearly a mousy brown, plain at first sight but glimmering in a layer of silver moonlight. Her eyes sparkled like the stars above, and her skin was a pale white like mine, although perhaps that was only the light. Wordlessly, she joined me, staring at the shining sparks of brilliant radiance millions of miles away._

_Nothing made sense- the setting, the star-watching, the bond I felt with the girl. But, in those moments, nothing had to._

"_Which one is yours?" the girl finally asked._

_I pointed to the brightest star. "Ilion. It was my mother's too."_

_The girl nodded as if she had already known the answer but had asked it simply for the sake of conversation. "I have one too." I followed her gaze to one of the northern constellations. "It's called Virgo."_

"_Virgo. I don't know that one."_

"_And most people where I come from don't know about Ilion," the girl admitted. "We call it the North Star."_

"_We?" I questioned, wondering what distinguished her from the rest of the world, for clearly she was different somehow. Exotic, almost, though nearly everything new seemed exotic to me. "Where do you live?"_

_The question was simple, but no immediate answer came. She was silent for a time as she stared back at the stars. Obviously and unintentionally, I had invaded her privacy, and, with a wince, I wondered if she would walk away, if I had offended her more than I thought._

"_Somewhere far away," the girl finally answered sadly, and I was simply relieved to hear an answer no matter the tone or vagueness. "It's very different than here." She paused once more. "I think I miss it. And Nathan. My boyfriend," she added with a flirtatious smile. "Though, it's not like there's any shortage of hot men here."_

"_Hot?" I asked, an image of burning men trapped in a raging fire going through my mind. What did she find attractive about them? Of course, it wasn't as if the thought of burning some of the brutish members of the Gilman's Cot had never crossed my mind; the mere wish seemed an attractive action, however impossible. Somehow, I imagined this wasn't what the girl had in mind._

"_You know, cute," she explained with a small giggle. "There are so many! And they talk weird. Formal. Of course, that only makes them even more hot. Have you seen Cadvan when he's trying to restrain himself from reacting? He does this weird thing with his eyebrows, and…" She trailed off at my blank stare. "Uh, never mind. That happens later, I suppose. Not that I've been studying Cadvan, or watching him. In fact, I haven't even been looking at him, he's so not my type…"_

_At this point, I couldn't do much but stare ahead into her penetrating eyes, completely uncomprehending. Whether she thought this Cadvan, whoever he was, did anything with his eyebrows or not was no concern of mine._

"_Uh, so, what about you?" the girl finished, and somehow, it wasn't awkward. "You got any crushes… er, guys you find visually pleasing?"_

"_I do not know any 'hot' men," I answered stiffly, wondering why in the world someone would describe handsome men as 'hot.'_

"_Oh, come on, there's got to be someone," she replied with a nudge, and now it was her prying into my personal life. Oddly, I didn't mind. Much. "Someone from the cot, perhaps? Anyone who might miss you?"_

"_Most of the men where I come from are cruel," I explained to her. "Brutes like Lothar, or sadistic creatures who take pleasure in raping a woman." I shuddered, the memory of my own near rape fresh in my mind._

"_Men can be stupid at times. Like when you're trying to get them to notice you, but they can't get it through their thick skulls that you're flirting and simply think you've got some dust in your eye, which they point out in front of everyone, and then you get all red, which someone else always points out in front of the guy to compound your humiliation. But, I suppose most of them are simply shy. And then there are those really oblivious ones who really don't understand. They're the worst." She huffed, which didn't go unnoticed by me. Clearly, she was thinking of one particular man. Maybe Nathan. But she said she missed him, so maybe not. Maybe Cadvan- the name rolled around pleasantly in my thoughts._

"_I wouldn't really know," I stated, not completely certain what to say in this situation. "I really don't know anything."_

"_Oh, sure you know stuff!" she argued. "Don't worry about men, they're clueless at times. You'll find the right one eventually- I think you'd really like this one guy I'm traveling with." She smiled as if she knew something I didn't, which she probably did. "I've mentioned him before. Cadvan."_

_I looked at her skeptically._

"_Except you can't have him, he's mine," she continued in an imitation of a territorial voice. I couldn't help but giggle- a sound I had long since forgotten. She joined in, and for seconds, we were little girls again, without a care in the world._

"_No, really, you know stuff," the girl continued. "Just different stuff. We are from different worlds, you know."_

_I was about to smile when her words hit me. Different worlds…I whipped my head up, staring at the girl, whose smile was also fading._

"_Different worlds," she muttered once more. The enchantress. And I remembered._

_The stars were wrong. This was her sky, not mine, and I was not in my bunk but in some godforsaken alley in the middle of a strange world. Studying her, I wondered if she saw my sky, my bunk._

"_Who are you?" I asked finally, and with that, the torrent of questions waiting so patiently inside finally spilled out. "Are you trapped? Have they hurt you? I didn't mean to do anything, I swear by the Light, please don't hurt me!" As she raised her hand to silence me, I uttered one final, rapid question, the most prominent of them all, "Can I go home?"_

_Instead of answering, the girl slowly walked past me, staring at something behind me. When I turned, I noticed the scene had changed to a brilliant landscape. On the left, there were valleys full of trees of ripe fruits. Paths strung through the forests, and there were various settlements, some small and simple, barely dots on a map, while others were giant and golden, like the enormous Citadel by a glimmer of blue light, which I assumed was the sea. But there were dark shadows too, and they were gaining land, especially in the south, where a black tower rose above everything._

_On the right, there were inhabitations everywhere, much like I had seen in the city. It seemed more magical than the left- my world. And yet, it was dirty too, with rundown shacks and busy streets. Here as well, there were shadows, although not so dark and evil. Perhaps these were more natural, like the grey fog that had clouded the stars._

"_The two worlds are very different," came the girl's voice from behind me. Only, it wasn't the girl's voice anymore but a deeper yet majestic sound. Turning, I found that, instead of the enchantress, I was accompanied by a beautiful woman that seemed bathed in light rather than garments. Her eyes were yellow, wild, and yet I felt as if I could trust her all the same. Or maybe not quite trust. I wasn't sure if there was a word. "Very different," she continued, "and very disorienting. But the enchantress, as you call her, has knowledge of your world. You do not share her comprehension."_

"_I… I don't understand," I stammered, feeling as if I were an insignificant child against such a goddess of purity._

_The woman smiled gently. "Exactly." She walked forward, placing her arm on my shoulder and guiding my gaze back towards the landscape. "Yet, the worlds are kin." Staring at me, she continued, "And, sometimes, being kin is being as different as possible." From her gaze, I guessed that there was some hidden meaning in her words._

_Perhaps hearing my thoughts, the woman, the goddess of moonlight, sighed. "It was not supposed to happen this way. But, that is in the past, and there is little we can do about that now. Now, we must play our cards as they are dealt, take one step at a time. Who knows? Perhaps this is for the better."_

"_What is for the better?" I asked. And then, "Please, I was simply a slave before. I don't understand what happened, but can't it be undone? I'm not very useful for anything. I'm not an enchantress."_

_The woman gave her a grim smile. "But are you? Had all gone as planned, you would have learned sooner. As it is, you will have to learn for yourself. But, perhaps, I can help…"_

_Her words made me uneasy. "Found out? Found out what?"_

"_Hush, child, you needn't learn yet. But, one day, you will." Taking one last step towards me, she closed her arms around me, pulling me into a strange yet not awkward position. "Who can tell whose peril is truly greater? You cannot face this alone. But you will not be alone."_

"_Face what?" I asked, getting slightly irritated but mostly desperate that all of my questions were going unanswered. "Will you be coming with me?"_

"_Alas, I cannot. I must stay in this realm and you in your realm."_

"_But it's not my…"_

"_For now, it must be." She gestured behind me. "Look up."_

_I obeyed, spotting a spherical orb lined with silver and violet, shining brighter than I'd ever seen it before. "The moon," I answered her unasked question._

"_The worlds share the same moon. And, although I lay no claim to it, it is, in a way, my realm. My origin. When you are lost or confused, look to the moon, and perhaps you will find some guidance there."_

_The lands within each realm began disappearing at a rapid rate, but the shadows that lined both lands never moved, though they seemed to shrivel slightly at the sunlight. At this, the goddess stiffened._

"_I cannot keep you here any longer," she said. "It is time, or as best of a time as we will ever get."_

_She reached for me, twisting me around and circling her arms around my head. "May the Light watch over you, my daughter."_

_Slowly, everything blurred, and my vision faded into blurry darkness, but not before I could hear her final words, "You will need it."_

**

* * *

**

So, please, help me get motivated, or Maerad's going to stay stuck in our world- which, I suppose, several of us wouldn't mind…


End file.
